Dance On Our Graves
by Long Tongue Liar
Summary: Korra discovers the Equalist movement might not be all that it seems to be on the surface. In that realization, she and the rest of the Fire Ferrets acquire an unlikely new friend. Primarily Bolin/OC but also Makorra.
1. Chapter 1

Steam billows in thick silver clouds. The crowd bursts in a sudden explosion of cries and stomping feet. Fabric collides, bones smack and a glorious haze spreads above the revolution. It's just the catalyst Amon needs, and part of her knows that. Passion fuels revolutions. Fear sparks change and movement. But the Equalists are not her main concern. If she were a better Avatar, maybe they would be. They probably should be. But all she can think about is Bolin.

Bolin. Bolin. _Bolin_. His image pounds through her skull.

And of course, Mako. The name makes her chest ache. A warm fire burns in her belly. This is as much for him as it is for Bolin -this rescue mission is for Bo's safety and Mako's sanity. She hasn't known either of them long but she already feels fiercely protective over both. So fiercely that her blood burns in her veins as she tears through the crowd, keeping her scarf pulled up at the bridge of her nose.

The stage is empty. Or as empty as she can tell. The steam is so thick it makes her eyes water. She can only hope Mako managed to grab his brother in the chaos. The crowd has cleared substantially, she weaves through the last clusters of frantic bodies and ducks her head. If anyone recognizes her there's no chance of her getting out unscathed. Fists clenches at her sides, she shoves her way through the last remnants of the gathering and breaks out in the back alleyway.

She pulls the cool air into her lungs in a short gasp. Her eyes clear and she rips her scarf away from her face.

"Phew," she blows a relived sigh and slumps against the door that closed behind her.

It's then she lifts her eyes to the alleyway and notices the group of five or so Equalists standing in a half-moon around her fallen friends. Korra blinks once.

"Oh."

Mako groans from the ground and props himself up on an elbow. The movement disrupts the silence just long enough for one of the Equalists to spin a kick at his head. The fight plays out like water moving through a stream after that. Korra darts left, right, writhing out of the way of the skilled fists. Mako's foot extends a burst of fire that sweeps in an orange haze against the backdrop of Republic City's dark sky. Bolin rouses himself shortly after with a whine of protest. It doesn't take him long to dance his way into the fight. He and his brother go back to back, elements colliding in a powerful haze.

Korra moves with them. The Fire Ferrets are as in sync out of the arena as they are in. The Equalists, for their technicality, are no match for them. In a matter of minutes, one of them yells.

"To the rooftops!"

Bolin gives a hearty gust of laughter and tilts his head up to watch them flee.

"Oh no you don't!" Korra hisses.

She's pissed. There's no way she's letting them get off easy tonight. Neither is Mako. He follows her up the brick side of the building. Bolin grunts and follows after him too. The three of them take to the skyline of Republic City. The scuffle of footsteps clatters over the quiet streets. Her breath puffs in her lungs. Each footfall prompts an exhale. There's water in the gutters. Pooling in the streets.

Mid-stride, her arm sails left and a swirl of water lashes out. It catches one of the Equalist's feet. The lithe body slips left with the contact, his footing undone.

"Nice one, Korra!" Bolin shouts.

She can hear Mako breathing beside her. They stop short as the watch the dark shadow of the Equalist slide down the side of the roof. There's a dumpster pressed up against the dead end. The slip proves to be potentially life threatening in half a second as the Equalist slams into the metal edge of the dumpster on his side. The helmet flies off and a rush of shock white hair unfurls. The impact flips him over onto his back and he lands in the alley in a cloud of dust with a sharp sound of pain that sounds distinctively feminine. The others don't even look back. They disappear into the shadows with swift feet as the trio of Fire Ferrets stare rather incredulously at the body below them.

"Oh," Korra mutters for the second time at night.

Her body is so rigid she flinches at Mako's movement. Level-headed as always, he swoops down first to the alleyway to assess the damage. Bolin follows and Korra finally snaps back to reality. She hooks a hand on the edge of a banister and lowers herself. Once her feet touch the ground she sucks in a breath. Below her lies a girl. She looks about her age, maybe even a year younger. Her skin is dark olive but her hair is a luminescent white. Her eyes are blue and they blink like a machine on overload, darting back and forth as her mouth gapes open for breath that won't come.

Korra rips her eyes away from convulsing figure as Mako kneels beside her. Bolin starts to panic.

"We weren't supposed to kill anyone!" he cries, his eyes as big as emerald plates.

"She's not dying," Mako snaps, "She's got the wind knocked out of her."

Korra visibly relaxes. Mako reaches forward and puts a hand on the girl's shoulder. Her chest heaves and her body quakes as she tries to get a breath in. There's a guttural sound, like she's pulling chain out of her lungs, and then she coughs. The air seems to rush back to her in that moment and she arches her back with a greedy inhale.

"Oh -good," Bolin says a little sheepishly.

Mako stares down at the girl sternly, "Relax, we're not going to hurt you."

Korra crosses her arms, "We aren't?"

"Don't you think you've done enough?" the girl coughs, surprising the group. Her hand goes to her side and she grits her teeth as she works herself into the sitting position. Mako backs away when she glares at him.

"Us?" Korra barks, "You're the ones taking away people's bending!"

The girl clenches her teeth.

"We fight for the same cause, Avatar."

Bolin snorts, "Oh really?"

The girl shoots him a look, "_Really_."

"Then why were you and your friends trying to take us out back there?" Mako asks accusingly.

A vein at the top of the girls hand sticks out as she tightens her grip on her ribs. A bead of sweat follows the line of her temple. A breeze blows wisps of white hair against her hot skin where they stick.

"Those _aren't_ my friends," she hisses, "And _I _didn't lay a hand on any of you during that fight."

"We want answers -_now_," Mako murmurs.

Korra's brow knits as she stares at the girl. Her adrenalin is still throbbing. She wants to hit something. And as time goes on it seems like there's less and less of a chance that she's going to be able to hit _her_. It makes her antsy. She uncrosses her arms and her fists clench and unclench at her sides. A beat of silence passes and the girl finally speaks.

"My name is Hana," she murmurs. Her hand unleashes her side and sweeps out. A sweet, curling stream of water lifts and then hurls itself into the opposing wall beside Bolin. The youngest brother gives a yelp of surprise and lifts his leg to dodge the wet artillery.

"You're a water bender," Korra raises her eyebrows.

Hana nods, "I'm part of an underground movement comprised of a few benders who have managed to infiltrate the Equalist ranks."

"So you're undercover?" Bolin pipes up.

She nods.

"To what end?" Mako asks.

Korra can tell he is still on edge too. His shoulders tense, neck tight, his eyes in narrow slits.

"To _stop_ this unrest before it generates something so powerful that neither side will have a hand in bringing it to an end," Hana says.

Her words are left to echo in the dark alleyway. The cool end of the rainstorm sends shivers up Korra's spine. She watches the white-haired girl with her sharp chin and elegant eyes and feels the chill work its way from her toes to the crown of her head. There is truth in the echo. And truth in her icy eyes.

Truth enough to make the Avatar's knees shake and to make the breeze in Republic City just a little bit colder.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Tonight has not gone as planned. Hana has always prided herself on being a young woman with a plan. Always a plan. She hasn't grown up easy, not many people have in Republic City. The only way she dealt with her upbringing was to become meticulous. Be aggressive. Be unwavering. Be _organized_.

It's this strategy that got her into the Arai society. That, and a die hard will to see this so called 'revolution' through until it had peacefully lapsed on both sides.

It only took a few months to integrate herself into the Equalist ranks. Secret underground societies run rampant in Republic City if you know where to look for them. The Arai's had a plan. Hana liked that about them. They were deliberate with their preparations. No one would fall into Equalist territory before they were ready. It was a risky operation already; there was no need to add more variables to it. The balance of the country hung in the discord. Mistakes were not an option.

So they trained in secret to learn the ways of chi-blocking, invented aliases, learned all the secrets. Then, they plunged headlong into a brewing fellowship that would kill them if they were ever discovered.

Hana hadn't seen any other members in sometime. They were all completely immersed, and for good reason. If _they_ could pick themselves out of the crowd, odds are so could everyone else. It was every man for himself inside the fellowship until bridges of hope and peace could be built from the inside out. They were a long way from that end –and most of them knew it. Hana did more than any of them she suspected, but it hadn't stopped her from joining. It hadn't stopped her from tattooing the Arai symbol on her bicep, it hadn't stopped her from leaving her family and it hadn't stopped her from donning the costume and attending rallies. Not much _did_ stop her. She was not a girl to let things stand in her way.

Which is why tonight is so frustrating for her.

The rally had gotten out of hand. Not even the Arai knew of Amon's startling power. It complicated things. It complicated things further when the whole venue when to hell and her team of fellow Equalists found themselves in the alley out back face to face with the Avatar herself and two other benders. Escape was the only option but just as soon as she thought she was in the clear she lost her footing. Before she knew it she was lying on the ground with two cracked ribs and staring up into the eyes of three people who probably intended to hurt her _worse_ if she didn't explain who she was.

The breeze is cool on her face, but it doesn't ease the burning sensation of her side. Her body is strong, lean and packed with sinewy muscle, but her momentum in the fall crushed the left side of her torso. It's near impossible to breathe. Even harder to try and explain herself while her vision is swimming back and forth.

"This underground movement –how many are involved?" the older of the two males asks.

Hana wets her lips and holds back a grimace, "We call ourselves the Arai society. There are about thirty of us."

"Thirty?" he scoffs, "How do you expect to bring down Amon with thirty people?"

"We don't wish to bring down Amon," she murmurs.

The Avatar stiffens. Hana should have guessed that would strike a nerve. She watches the other young woman throw up her arms, bright eyes blazing.

"Whose side are you on?"

"We are on neither side," Hana snaps, "We want _peace_. We cannot allow ourselves to favor one over the other if we are to bring harmony."

"So you're fine to just sit and watch while Amon takes away people's bending?" the Avatar yells.

She takes a step forward. The older male seems to flinch, as if about to reach out to hold her back, but thinks better of it. Hana regards the young woman with narrow eyes. Her countenance doesn't change.

"No –this is as startling news to us as it is to you," Hana says and swallows, "We won't stand for dictatorship and abuse of power like that. What I'm trying to say is that we have to be able to see _both_ sides of this argument to come to peace. Bender privilege and terrorism is a real phenomenon. The fact that enough people are threatened by it to follow someone like Amon is proof enough. We must remedy that before progress can be made."

"She has a point," the younger of the two males speaks up. He and Hana lock eyes for a brief instant and she gets tangled in his eyes. Hana rips hers away first to glance at the Avatar.

The young woman's face is a haze of emotion, but Hana can sense some of what she's saying is sinking in. On the surface the Avatar's aura is rash and impulsive, but she has sense. It seems she has no further arguments. Her mouth quiets. She folds her arms back over her chest.

A long silence passes. The older male looks to the Avatar.

"Korra?" he prompts.

The Avatar heaves a sigh of defeat and her arms swing back at her sides. She looks down at Hana with a grim face.

"If what you're saying is true, then I guess we're allies."

Hana says nothing. The silence pervades. Until the younger male speaks up, his emerald eyes wide and questioning.

"So what now?"

More silence.

"Your friends aren't coming back for you, are they?" the older boy asks and looks up at the rooftops where the Equalists last disappeared.

"No, our orders are to leave anyone who falls behind. I imagine they assume I've been captured. They think there's nothing they can do for me now," Hana says. The breath finally stings her side enough to prompt a hiss of pain from her. She grips her side again.

The youngest boy stiffens.

"Korra, can you heal her?"

The Avatar looks around, "Not here."

"Then we'll take her to the apartment," he urges.

The older male, who looks distinctly related to him, narrows his eyes, "Bolin."

"What? Like Korra said, we're allies! We screwed up her plan and threw her off a roof; the least we can do is fix her up. Right?" Bolin passes a pleading look back and forth between the two standing.

The older boy's nostrils flare and he gives a curt nod.

"Fine."

He doesn't move. No one does, for a moment. So the younger boy makes the first notion and arrives in front of Hana with a hand extended. She reaches up with her good arm and he pulls her up like she's made of air. But she hasn't accounted for how difficult it would be to hold herself up, and the pain in her side dulled the pain in her twisted ankle. She hasn't noticed it was even injured until that instant. As soon as she stands her balance fails her and she crashes into the boy, her white hair swirling and jaw clenched.

"Woah –I've got you," he murmurs in her ear.

With one elegant, fluid motion that a first glance would deem him incapable of, he hooks his grip under her shoulders and under knees and gently eases her into his arms. He's sturdy, built like a tree. Her much smaller figure folds into the vice of his arms. She wraps her good one around his neck and settles against him.

"You okay?" he asks, and she can feel the reverberation of his voice in his chest.

"Yes, thank you," she lies.

Her side is on fire, and now that her ankle has been acknowledged it throbs. But the promise of relief is near so she bites her tongue and holds on.

The older boy retrieves her helmet from beside the dumpster and tucks it into his bag. Then Bolin leads the way, easing into the shadows of the alleys with firm, deliberate steps. The other two lag behind and Hana can hear the harsh murmurs of their whispers echoing. She doesn't blame them. It's a lot to take in, in just a matter of minutes. She's trying to pick out what their saying when Bolin starts to speak.

"The name's Bolin," he says and the white gleam of his grin shines like a beacon, "I'm sure you've heard of me."

His plucky attitude is kind of endearing. If she wasn't in so much pain she might have smirked.

"Can't say I have."

He falters but quickly regains his bravado, "I'm a member of the pro-bending team with those two wackos back there -Korra and my brother Mako. We're the Fire Ferrets!"

She feels his chest puff proudly. She almost feels _bad_ for not knowing who he is. But she's never had much time for recreational activity. And she hasn't been in Republic City long enough to even know who's famous and who's not. There's even such a thing as pro-bending? News to her.

"That's nice," she says, for lack of anything better to say.

There is an uncomfortable silence. A bright light from an overhead streetlamp illuminates her face. It makes her squint and she buries her face into his chest until the shadows consume both of them again. He tightens his grip on her.

She can just barely pick up what Korra and Mako are whispering about ten steps behind them.

"_Do you think I should tell Tenzin?"_

"_Should we tell anyone? Taking this information outside of this group could get the Arai publicity they don't want."_

"_How do we know we can even trust them? You heard her, they don't even want to bring Amon down!"_

"_They don't want to help him either, Korra."_

Her ears strain, but as soon as she's got a grip on the threads of conversation Bolin speaks up again. His soft baritone tickles at her ear. His body is warm. Her side throbs in slow, deep pangs.

"How's your rib? Are you doing okay?" he asks.

She wants to be annoyed with his constant interjections but can't find the heart to. She's never been much into romance like other teenaged girls. But there's something undeniable about his square jaw and boyish, crooked smile. He's naïve, and energetic. He's everything she's not. But he's strong both in body and spirit and in his grip she feels safe for the first time in a long time.

"I've had worse," she offers him a smile to be polite and he returns it with such exuberance it makes her ache.

"That sounds ominous," he wrinkles his nose in sympathy.

"How about you?" she asks.

"Me?"

"Yeah, pro-bending seems like it could be potentially dangerous. You ever get hurt?" It's a boring question but she's just trying to make conversation now. He's putting in the effort; the least she can do is return the favor.

He beams.

"Oh yeah, I've been hurt loads of times! This one time I got hit with a— "

He continues on the entire way back. She lets him talk, telling stories of different injuries which then progresses to stories about his favorite matches and the Avatar's induction into the team. She nods when appropriate and asks a few questions but mostly she just lets him talk. He's good at it. Very charismatic –and dare she say, _cute_.

He talks all the way up to he and his brother's apartment that rests above what he describes as the arena. It's a small place with long bay windows that reflect the stars into little pinpricks of silver on the floor. He lays her down gently on the couch in the corner, mindful of her ribs.

"Good?" he asks as he slowly slides his hands out from under her.

She nods, "Thank you."

He grins and nods back. Mako and Korra then enter behind them. They've ceased their whispering. Korra runs a pail of water and then kneels beside Hana on the couch with it. Her hands glow blue and they move over Hana's ribs.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Hana asks, hoping to make pleasant conversation as easily with Korra as she had with Bolin.

"A friend," Korra murmurs.

Her eyes are distrusting. But her hands work magic and the pain starts to ease.

"Thank you," Hana tries again.

Korra nods with an affirmative hum. And then she's finished speaking. And Hana's finished trying to win her over.

She heaves a low sigh and sweeps her eyes over the Avatar's shoulder to find Bolin watching the process from his position in the corner where he's leaned back with his arms crossed. His green eyes glow like fire in the dark. Mako disappears into the adjacent room. Her eyes drift back to Korra whose dark face is arranged into a mask of mistrust.

Facts will not be enough to convince the Avatar of her sincerity, she realizes. To have thought she or Mako would accept her as willingly as Bolin seems to have been a mistake. So she keeps quiet. She'll let them decide for themselves. If they think she's not to be trusted and send her out, then so be it. She's survived on the streets before.

She can do it again.

* * *

_A huge thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Enjoy!_


	3. Chapter 3

They let her stay. It's a gesture of kindness Hana wasn't expecting, but she's grateful for it all the same. It makes her life a little easier. The Avatar's healing has its limitations, and her ribs are still broken. The bruises and lacerations on the skin are gone at least, but there's no way she could have managed five feet from the arena had these three strangers sent her out.

Korra helps her wrap her midsection in tight bandages to help ease the pain of the ribs. Her bedside manner is as cold as ever but Hana doesn't expect that to change for some time. She keeps her mouth closed and tries to show her appreciation with as little conversation as possible.

Korra leaves somewhere in the middle of the night. Mako and Bolin disperse to their beds as well. She is left alone.

Hana has been alone before. In fact, she's been alone practically her whole life. But this time it's different. She watches the stars through the high gaping windows over her head and swallows back the feeling. The shaking, terrifying feeling of being swallowed up in the sea. She's uncomfortable. The pain in her ribs is unrelenting. And the sheer discomfort of being in a place where she's not exactly _welcome_ doesn't help ease her mind. Sleep is turbulent when she finally finds it.

Her dreams are full of her fellow Equalists. They break into her new allies' house and find her. Amon tears her limb from limb for her treachery. She wakes up with a sharp gasp and bolts upright. She's a half a second away from screaming her lungs out when the pain in her side stifles her. With practiced discipline she eases her breath and falls back into the couch. No one stirs. The room is silent. Again, she is reminded of how alone she really is. Sleep takes her in harsh, jagged waves once more. This time, she bobs in the angry ocean until morning.

When she wakes up, she smells food. The stab of hunger is so immediate it almost hurts. Her eyes flicker open. There's music coming from a radio behind her. But that's not nearly as surprising at the pair of gold eyes blinking an inch away from her face. She startles.

"Oh!"

The fire ferret's ears perk up a bit and it wiggles its way off her chest and to the floor. She stares at it incredulously as it scurries over the threshold of the room and toward the source of the music. It finds a pair of sturdy legs and scales the owner of them like a tree before coming to rest on the shoulder. Bolin turns with a sheepish grin.

"Hey," he greets her, "I see you've met Pabu."

"Pabu," she tests the name out on a sandpaper tongue.

She swings her legs off the edge of the couch and clutches at her ribs. The wince she tries to conceal draws harsh lines on her fair face. Shock white hair falls over her lean shoulder and tickles at her temple. The rest spills down her back as her chin tucks and she releases a silent hiss through her pink lips. She expected her injuries to feel better this morning. They _don't_.

Bolin's face opens up in surprise and he sets down the bowl of something he's been stirring for the last ten minutes, trying to get it to thicken. Pabu switches to his other shoulder as he moves towards Hana on the couch and the crouches beside her.

"Mako said you'd probably be in a little more pain when you woke up," he tries to empathize, "He's broken a few ribs before."

She glances down at him from underneath her fair lashes. The sunlight streaming through the windows colors his healthy, ruddy cheeks. His eyes light up like jewels as he watches her with his brow knit with concern. She wonders what she's done to deserve his kindness or his compassion. She gives him a smile, as if that'll lessen her debt to him.

"Nothing I can't handle," she breathes the words out one by one, releasing the pain as she does so. Once it becomes manageable, she gestures to the fire ferret cocking its head at her from Bolin's shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Pabu."

Bolin grins. He reaches up to grab the animal under the arms and holds him out to her like a beaming father might hold out his newborn.

"Meet the Fire Ferret's trusty mascot!"

Hana chuckles. He makes the animal wave a tiny paw at her and she finds herself _giggling_. It's so strange how outside this apartment, Republic City is brewing with hate and shadows and a storm on the wings. But in here she can't feel any of that. Bolin smiles like there's nothing wrong with the world, like there's never _been_ anything wrong. It's a refreshing change of pace for her. A comfort. Something she can hold onto.

"He's very cute," she nods.

Bolin's smile widens. He holds Pabu out a little farther and the ferret responds by giving Hana a soft lick on the nose.

"He likes you," he says approvingly.

"The feeling's mutual," she laughs.

He places the ferret back on the ground and it scurries around him before hopping up on the table where the radio is. Hana uses the arm on her good side to run a hand through her hair. Bolin stands after a moment of prolonged eye-contact that makes her insides feel like they might float away, and he runs a hand through his own hair.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

"A little," she admits.

His smile returns and he bends at the waist, extending a hand to her.

"Then allow me to accompany you to the kitchen, m'lady," he offers.

She finds herself laughing again and gives him the hand on her good side. Their palms slide easily together. She hadn't noticed the night before how much he dwarfs her. Her delicate palm all but disappears in his stronger, sturdier hand. She's thankful for his steadiness too because as soon as she stands, she finds her knees weak. He anticipates this, and gets a hold on her waist too. She leans against him and he supports her as they make their way to the kitchen. Hana squints in the sunlight. It's much too bright to be early morning. Bolin sits her down in a chair once they get to the kitchen and she rubs at her eyes.

"What time is it?"

Bolin busies himself with a few cluttered bowls around the counter, "A little after four, why?"

Her pale blue eyes widen.

"Four?"

The day is gone. And that means it's been a day since she's checked in with the Equalists. Being away makes her uneasy. So many things could go wrong. Each day she stays away is a risk. Bolin turns with two bowls, one in each wide palm.

"Yeah, I didn't want to wake you. You seemed like you needed the rest," he says apologetically.

Hana shakes her head quickly, "No, you're right. Thank you. I just…I'm just…_disoriented._ I don't mean to overstay my welcome."

Bolin laughs and sets a bowl down in front of her. What ever it is, she doesn't care. It's warm and it smells wonderful. She's not shy about shoveling a spoonful in her mouth. It runs down her throat and warms her from the inside out.

"Don't worry about it! You can stay here as long as you need until that rib gets healed up. It's just me and Mako anyway, it's not like we can take up this much space ourselves. Besides, we're allies! We gotta stick together, right?" he raises his bowl as if to cheers it and she smiles.

The smile fades as she burrows her spoon in for a third round. She pushes the substance around a bit and frowns.

"The Avatar doesn't see it that way," she murmurs.

"Korra?" he asks through a mouthful of food. He has the grace to swallow before he continues, "I wouldn't get too worked up about it. She'll warm up to you."

"She doesn't trust me," Hana says. _Not like you_, she finishes the thought in her head.

"She'll come around. Korra has a lot on her plate, believe me," he chews through his words.

Pabu circles around and comes to sit on the edge of the table. Bolin rewards him with a small bite before he continues.

"I think the whole Amon thing has her freaked too. And the city is putting a lot of pressure on her. I talked to her today and one of the council members is trying to get her to head his task force." He rolls his eyes and takes another monumental bite.

Hana chews on her own and swallows before attempting the phrase.

"Task force?"

Bolin wrinkles his nose. It seems he's forgotten he's sitting across the table from a member of the Arai society and not just a pretty girl. He nods and sets down his spoon.

"I don't know much about it. Only that they want to take down the Equalists and they want Korra on their side."

Hana rubs at her temples. Her appetite is gone. Her body sinks back against the chair and she ignores the twinge in her ribs. There is a long beat of silence. She can feel Bolin's eyes. Even Pabu's. They're watching her, waiting for her reaction. The problem is, she isn't sure what it should be. Part of her wants to cry, another to scream, another to keep running until her legs give out. But none of these are plausible. There is only one answer to meet news like this.

"I have to go back," she whispers.

Bolin stiffens in his seat.

"To the Equalists?"

Hana nods. Her hair comes around to frame her thin face.

"Not yet," he surprises her by speaking so adamantly. The enduring smile is gone and replaced by seriousness, "Not until your ribs are healed."

"What?" she asks. She can't help herself. She blinks at him.

He looks sheepish again but he doesn't relent.

"Stay with us until you're healed, at least. You can't go back there like this. Especially with the task force –if they find you and you can't get away…you don't know what they'll do to you."

He falls silent and Hana continues to blink at him. Her cupid-bowed lips part ever so slightly. She cant find words for a moment.

"Why?" is what she finally settles on.

"Why what?" he asks.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he's genuinely perplexed.

Hana swallows, "Letting me stay here, feeding me…_caring_ about what happens to me."

For some reason, a lump develops in her throat as she says this. Her eyes feel hot. Moisture collects in the corners.

He blinks back at her. As if it's a thought that hasn't occurred to him before. As if trusting her and caring about her was something that just _happened_. Second nature. This thought tears her inside even more. Now her eyes are definitely filling with tears. He sees it, she's sure. He gives her what she needs the most. A smile.

"I dunno, I guess…I guess because I know what it feels like to not have anyone looking out for you. And I know how it feels to think you're kind of alone in the world. It stinks, big time," he shrugs.

She laughs. It's a weary sound. And it hurts her side. But it warms her soul.

"Besides," he grins, "Pabu likes you. And he's an _excellent_ judge of character."

She laughs again and wipes at her eyes, a little embarrassed but certainly cleansed. When her hand falls to the table he grabs it.

"So you'll stay?" he asks. His eyes flicker with the eagerness of a child.

She sniffs and nods, "Just until my ribs are healed."

He squeezes her hand. The warmth in her stomach blossoms and reaches her cheeks.

Bolin opens his mouth to say something else when the front door bursts open and Mako strolls in with a sweeping display of his arms.

"Bolin! You'll never believe what happened to me today!"

"In here!" Bolin calls.

The two release each other's hands simultaneously as Mako enters the kitchen. He glances at Hana for a moment, as though just remembering who she was and why she was in his home. His eyes are not nearly as cold as Korra's had been. He's not warmed up to her yet, but he won't be as hard to win over as the Avatar.

"So?" Bolin prompts him.

Mako leans against the doorframe and smirks.

"Well –on my way back from work I got hit by a moped."

Bolin's eyes widen. Hana mimics him.

"That's supposed to be a good thing? Are you hurt? We have practice!"

Mako waves him off.

"I'm _fine_. But it just so happens that the girl who ran me over is Asami _Sato_."

"Sato...as in...Satomobile?" Bolin asks.

"Hiroshi Sato's daughter," Mako sighs, a little dreamily.

"So you got a pity date because she ran you over, am I right? So what?" Bolin goes back to his food.

"I wasn't finished!" Mako snapped, "And it _wasn't_ a pity date."

Bolin smiles innocently. Mako scowls and continues.

"Afterwards she let me meet her father. And _he _just so happened to agree to sponsor us for the tournament!"

That gets Bolin's attention. Hana smiles a little at their shared enthusiasm.

"Are you kidding? Mako, that's amazing!"

"I know!" his older brother beams, "All we have to do is wear the logo on our uniforms and we're set to play!"

"You hear that? We're going to the big leagues, baby!" Bolin jumps up from his chair, grinning at Hana. He howls in with pure unadulterated joy and Pabu circles around his feet excitedly, a blur of red. Bolin turns back to Hana.

"Hey, if you stick around long enough maybe you'll get to see us play!"

"I'd like that," she smiles.

Then she goes back to her food, her appetite a bit restored by the happiness in the room. She ignores the prickling sensation in the back of her head that tells her to leave this fairytale apartment. That nagging sliver that says 'get out while you can before it becomes too hard to leave.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Dance On Our Graves**

_Chapter 4_**  
**

* * *

Asami Sato is even more beautiful in person than Mako made her out to be. Hana feels a little put out standing next to her. Asami is made up of soft lines, fair curves and molten green eyes that flit like a temptress. Hana is harsh in comparison. Her body is lean, taut with feminine muscle, her hair straight to her shoulders and her lashes girlishly long instead of mature and sleek. But Asami is as sweet as she is striking, and she wastes no time making Hana feel beautiful.

There's a gala being held for Avatar Korra this evening. Hana's ribs are almost healed. She can at least walk around –which means she'll be Bolin's date for the night. Their cover story if anyone asks is that they're all old friends. That Hana moved away for a few years and is back visiting. Mako doesn't think anyone will ask, but it comforts Hana to have a plan. The next order of business after creating an alibi was to look _presentable_. Hana has never done the whole pretty business. She has all the right mechanics for it, she supposes. Her mother's soft face, the thick, shining hair, her father's pale blue eyes and smooth skin –it's just she's never had to arrange any of these features into anything worth while. Her life has been about survival and preparation. She hasn't had opportunities to wear make up or _dress up_.

Thankfully, that's where Asami has swooped in to save the day.

Hana is a little uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, but Asami talks enough for the both of them. She's friendly but firm. Much like her upbringing. She's explained that she's learned how to take care of herself from an early age. Something Hana can admire and relate to. It only takes an hour for her to warm up to the young heiress, and the bitterness about having her in on her identity eases. It was Mako's decision to tell Asami about the Arai Society. He insisted she could be trusted. Now, Hana thinks he was probably right.

"You look wonderful," Asami gushes and spins her around to look in the mirror.

Hana turns. A gasp flutters from her mouth. Staring back at her is a woman she doesn't recognize. Her hair is piled on top of her head like a blossoming white lily and strands like ivory vines spill down the sides of her angled face. Her lips are red, skin dusted ivory and her lithe frame is wrapped up in a scarlet dress from Asami's closet that actually makes it look like she has a waist. Her bare, olive arms stretch out as she admires the long fabric. Her ribs twinge a little with the movement but she barely feels them. She's stunned into numbness by her appearance.

"Oh," she whispers once she's spun full circle.

Asami smiles from over her shoulder, "Well, what do you think?"

Hana swallows. Wets her plump red lips.

"It's…beautiful."

She turns back to face Asami, who looks equally as radiant in a red dress with her dark hair curled about her shoulders and her eyes blazing. Her friendly smile is comforting. It's nice to have another person around who seems to have blind faith in her for no apparent reason.

"Thank you, Asami," she murmurs. For this, and her kindness.

The other woman seems to understand the weight of the gesture and she smiles, taking Hana's hand.

"Of course. Now come on, there's a party waiting!"

It's hard for her to concentrate on a party when so many things are going on outside the elaborate venue. Somewhere, the Equalists are planning. Somewhere, the Arai Society feels the ripples of her absence. But she made a promise to Bolin. A promise she intends to keep. It's the least she can do to repay him for his trust in her.

So she puts on a brave face as Asami guides her through the crowd. All of Republic City's elite are here, jabbering away, clinking glasses and laughing. Do they even know what's brewing under their feet? Have they any idea of the storm that waits at their doors? Asami tightens her grip on her hand and suddenly they're standing in a clearing of partygoers. Across the way Mako and Bolin stand shoulder to shoulder, looking decidedly strapping in their suits.

Bolin catches sight of them first and doesn't bother to try and disguise the way his jaw unhinges. Asami chuckles beside her.

"Looks like someone is a fan of your new look," she murmurs under her breath.

Mako notices the girls too, and then with some discouragement notices his brother. He jabs him hard in the ribs so he'll close his mouth and once he does so he grabs onto his elbow and drags him towards the middle of the floor. The girls meet them.

"You two look lovely," Mako says politely, though Hana isn't sure if he's seen her. His eyes are only for Asami, and it doesn't surprise her at all.

What _does_ surprise her is Bolin. He's not staring at Asami like the rest of the men of the gala are. He's staring right at her. He has a glassy, faraway look in his eye and she almost wants to reach forward and snap her fingers in front of his face to see if he's still conscious. Before she can, he comes to life and gives her a grin.

"M'lady," he says and extends his arm.

She moves forward, thankful that he's given her the opportunity to lean on him, as her ribs are still tender. He's sturdy as ever. He holds her arm close to his body to keep her stable. She can feel the warm heat of his torso through the fabric of his clothing and hopes their proximity doesn't give away her pounding heart.

They meet Asami's father, and subsequently Korra, a few minutes later. Korra looks as beautiful as ever. She has a raw grace about her, a strength that is so radiant it makes the whole room glow.

As the conversation rolls on, it appears Korra has no prior knowledge of Asami. And it's a little uncomfortable watching the recognition show on her face. If the Avatar didn't distrust her so much she might have thought about approaching her about it. Mako doesn't seem all that perturbed. He either hasn't noticed Korra's discomfort, or doesn't care. Hana hopes it's the first.

She manages to catch Korra's eyes just briefly before she's pulled away. There's a soft moment of understanding there. Because Hana might be the only one in the whole group who caught just how _hurt_ Korra looked watching Asami hang on Mako's arm. But the moment passes. Korra is swept off to talk to more dignitaries and Bolin takes the opportunity to squeeze Hana's hand once more.

"How are your ribs?" he asks.

"Better," she nods.

"Up for some dancing?"

He's grinning so widely it's impossible to say no to him. Though she's never been much of a dancer. In fact, she doesn't think she's ever danced a step in her life. But there's no arguing with that smile. She nods dumbly, at a loss, and lets him lead her away from Mako and Asami who seem grateful for the alone time anyway.

Once they're on the dance floor Bolin turns and places his massive palms on the lean dip of her waist. Her long arms fall over his monumental shoulders and as soon as they come together Bolin takes the lead and they sway as naturally as water through a stream. Like she's the river and he's the riverbed –they work in perfect harmony and she barely has to think about her feet under her as he guides them around the dance floor.

She leans close to him and her cheek presses against his chest. His breath catches there and she can feel it. It's the first time she's witnessed his bravado waver. Perhaps it's because they're so _close_. She has to crane her neck up to see him and if she were to look up their faces might touch.

He doesn't speak for a long while. They merely sway, bobbing about the dance floor like flower petals in a breeze.

"Neat party, huh?" he finally breaks the silence with a nervous laugh. His warm breath tickles her shoulder.

"It's very nice," she placates him.

"I've never been to anything this fancy before."

"Neither have I."

"Perks of being friends with the Avatar, I guess."

"Or_ trying_ to be friends with her," Hana adds with a little smirk into the fabric against his chest.

"Or that," he laughs.

Silence lulls again. The music is quiet enough where they can hear each other speak comfortably, but no one else is privy to their conversation. Hana takes the opportunity.

"Bolin?"

"Mmm?" he murmurs against the side of her head.

"The other night, you said something about knowing how it feels to not have anyone looking out for you…What did you mean?"

She feels him sigh. The air balloons his chest and then it releases. She's melts further into him with the motion. The music softens around them and for a brief second she forgets there are others around.

"Mako and I lost our parents to a firebender when we were kids. We lived on the streets most of our lives until we got into pro-bending," Bolin explains, "I mean, Mako always took good care of us and everything but there were always those times when it just felt like the whole world was out to get us, you know?"

Hana leans back from him to look in his eyes. They're full, adamant green. Full of sincerity. Full of maturity a first glance would deem him incapable of.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs.

He smiles handsomely down at her, "Don't be."

She settles back against his chest and they continue to sway. He smells crisp and masculine. The heat of the room and it combined make her sleepy. Her eyes flutter closed.

"How about you?" he asks all of a sudden, "How did you get involved with the Arai society, anyway?"

Her body tightens. It's an uncomfortable topic for her, one she doesn't divulge to just anyone. Her eyes open and she watches the feet of the dancing couple across from them. As soon as she searches for the words, she find they come fairly easy.

"My family wasn't very well off. So my father resorted to some pretty horrific acts to get money. He used his bending to terrorize people and get what he needed," she wet her red lips, "I decided I never wanted to become him, so I took the most opposite path I could as early on as I could. I even stopped bending for a while. I was alone for sometime and then eventually about the Arai through word of mouth."

Her body feels weightless as the words leave her. It's been a long time since she's opened up to someone like this. It feels nice. Bolin's hands flex at her waist and he brings her a little closer. They move as one being now, indivisible and whole.

"What about your mom?" he asks.

"She died when I was young, I don't remember her much. But I know she would have never stood for what my father turned into."

"Then I'm sure she's proud of you and what you're doing," he says and then chuckles, "And if it means anything, so am I. It takes guts to walk away from your family to do the right thing. If Republic City had more people like you in it I bet Mako and I would have grown up differently."

She looks up at him, stunned.

"It means a lot, actually," she manages.

Their feet stop moving. She stares up into his green eyes, so _green_, and wonders how he managed to grow up so full of light in streets so dark. He stares back at her softly. He has this way of looking at her like she's something that can be discovered over and over again. He understands her better than she understands herself, she decides. And they've only known each other a few days.

But that doesn't quiet the sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him. It doesn't stop her face from moving closer. His mimics hers until they're so close she can feel his breath on her bottom lip. Inches away, slowly drawing closer -she thinks it just might happen and the weightless feeling in her stomach blossoms.

Then, all of a sudden, there's commotion. The music stops and the crowd breaks like cracking mud. Reporters with their notepads and flashing bulbs move forward through the dance floor to reach the grand staircase. One of them bumps into her so hard it knocks her away from Bolin. He manages to grab her and reign her back into the vice of his arms, but not before the hit grants her a sharp jolt of pain in her side.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Bolin calls out angrily, but his voice is lost in the discord.

Hana grimaces and stays with her shoulders pressed up against his chest, protected from the onslaught. The pain throbs, but it's not nearly as interesting as the group around the staircase where Korra stands beside a prominent looking man. He gives her a hearty shove forward and she scurries down a few steps into the hungry eyes of the press. The venue quiets.

"Uh oh," Bolin mutters from over her shoulder.

The Avatar looks frightened. There's a hollowness in her face Hana hadn't sensed the night before. Some kind of grey emptiness where light once was. Her pale blue eyes widen under the flashing lights and she stammers to answer the questions that fly at her like icy raindrops. She catches her words on a few of the questions, but there's nothing stable to hold onto. They are unrelenting. And behind her, the man in blue smirks just slyly enough that Hana wants to hit him.

The barrage continues for a few minutes until one question strikes a nerve. The Avatar's golden arms slam down at her sides and she quiets the voices with a commanding voice.

"If Republic City needs me, then I'll join Tarrlock's task force!"

Hana feels her face drain of color. The blood moves from her powdered cheeks to the pit of her stomach where it writhes angrily.

"No," she whispers.

She perhaps knows better than anyone in the room how _damaging_ this will be. Amon will only be provoked by this news –whatever schemes he's developed will only come sooner. Before Republic City has had time to prepare for them. Before they've had time to truly fear for them.

And what of Korra? The task force can't protect her. Facing Amon head on is a terrifying and most likely unreliable strategy.

A pang of fear wells inside her. And then one of regret. Somewhere far away she hears Bolin asking if she's all right. He turns her around and she stares right through him. Her heart crinkles to dust.

She knows she has to leave him. And whatever fairytale joy he's given her –she has to forget.

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Much love!_


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